


Phantom Touch

by Fleshisonlyflesh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Masturbation, One Shot, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleshisonlyflesh/pseuds/Fleshisonlyflesh
Summary: Dora is unable to sleep, and her fantasies of a certain werewolf cause her to find a way to relax...





	Phantom Touch

“Bloody hell,” Dora groaned, kicking off her boots the moment she entered her humble flat. Her work day at the Ministry had been brutal, and she wondered if Moody was trying to train her or kill her. The bastard blasted her on her ass more times than she could count in efforts to get her duelining reflexes up to his ridiculous standards, and Dora couldn’t wait for the day when she exceeded them. Of course, she’d never receive his praise. Moody’s idea of positive reinforcement was either a growl or a backhanded compliment. 

Stretching out on her bed, Dora debated on what to do for the rest of her evening. Tea sounded nice, but the idea of getting up and putting the kettle on felt more like a chore than a luxury. The kitchen felt a mile away, and her hand shook as she lifted her wand, debating on whether she should try to charm the kettle to boil itself. “Ehh… fuck it,” she muttered to herself, resting her wand on the floor. 

All she wanted to do was sleep. 

Closing her eyes, Dora heaved an exhausted breath, trying to calm her aching body. She tugged at her multicolored quilt, pulling it close to her body, but she couldn’t get comfortable. With every passing second, she tossed and turned, grunting in frustration as she became tangled in her blanket like a rainbow ice cream cone. Slapping her hand against her forehead, Dora stared at her ceiling. Her thoughts drifted to the day ahead of her, and it only caused her anxiety to worsen. Though it was her day off at the Ministry, the Order’s work was never done, and the mission assigned to her made her stomach flip. 

But it wasn’t because of the task. It was because of her partner. 

From the moment Dora met Remus Lupin, she knew he was different. His calm demeanor and delightful sarcasm gave her ease from the tension brewing around them, not to mention he was incredibly handsome. She didn’t mind the scars or the second hand clothes, nor the ridiculous stigma surrounding his “condition.” As far as she was concerned, society could go fuck themselves. It wasn’t as if he chose to be a werewolf, and to define him simply by his lycanthropy was a disservice to the beautiful human being he was. 

Sighing happily, Dora suddenly felt very warm beneath her quilt, and she squirmed a bit, allowing the fabric to loosen around her. It didn’t work, however, and she realized the flushing feeling on her skin had nothing to do with her bedding. It happened every time she thought of Remus, and the idea of spending an entire mission together left her dizzy and flustered. How was she supposed to maintain her composure in person, when in his absence, the mere idea of him smiling at her made Dora want to swoon. He had the most beautiful smile, the most haunting eyes, and his hands… they were so slender and delicate, Dora’s body automatically ached for their touch. 

Before she realized what she was doing, Dora’s hands wandered beneath her shirt, teasing the ticklish spot beneath her navel. Her hitching breath brought her to reality, and suddenly she began to stir deliciously between her legs. She imagined her hands were Remus’, exploring her and worshipping her with such careful precision, she’d have no choice but to surrender to him. Exhaling a shaking breath, Dora moved a hand up to her breast, shocked to find her nipples were already taut with excitement, poking through the fabric of her bra in desperation. She teased them, allowing the barrier of fabric to provide a bit of friction, and a tiny whimper escaped her. It was only a matter of time before she tore off her shirt and bra, kicking away the blanket in process. She wanted nothing constricting her, nothing in the way of her fantasy of being at the mercy of Remus’ phantom touch. 

Dora cupped her breasts gently, rolling her nipples with her thumb and forefinger until her hips bucked. Wetness pooled between her thighs, and as she whined, she imagined Remus’ lips traveling along her sensitive neck. “Oh…” she moaned, her skin erupting in gooseflesh, and as her fingers fluttered across her nipples, her clit throbbed with envy. 

She couldn’t take it anymore. The calling between her legs was begging for her fingers, and Dora answered willingly, undoing her jeans feverishly and pulling her sodden knickers down with them. She was practically dripping with excitement, her sex aching and flushed, ready for stimulation. Ready for him. “Remus…” Dora whispered as one of her hands left her breast to wander over the tidy folds of her sex. In her mind’s eye, he was smiling at her, his graying hair falling into his eyes as his fingertips teased her slowly, maddeningly. Dora’s back arched as her hands mirrored her thoughts, and once her touch reached her clit, her body went rigid. 

“Ah!” she cried out, and Dora circled her pulsing bud until she was shuddering. “Remus… yes… just like that.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if the walls of her bedroom could talk. She kept her touch slow, not wanting to waste her reverie on a hasty climax. She would have wanted Remus to take his time, to explore her, to cherish her, just as she would do to him. She wanted to kiss every inch of him, to find the spots that made him melt and murmur her name like a prayer. Imagining him so vulnerable only caused Dora’s arousal to spike further, and her hand slowed over her clit, her toes curling in erotic agony. 

“Fuck…” she panted, her sex spasming from the denial. Dora smoothed her hands up and down her thighs, aiming to calm her trembling body in preparation for more. Every exhale yielded a whine of need, and after a few more seconds of breathing, she returned her hand between her legs. She was dripping, and she used it to her advantage, collecting her wetness and smoothing it over her clit. Once again, her body jolted, and her free hand gripped the pillow behind her head. “More… more…” she breathed, her fingers quickening on their own accord. She needed her pleasure as much as she needed the man in her head. 

Dora’s hips were practically bucking off the bed, the core of her waiting impatiently for something, anything to satiate the burning desire for what she couldn’t have. She wanted Remus to fill her, to make love to her until they were lost in each other. “Please…” she breathed as her middle finger sank into her entrance, brushing her gspot. The pleasure was overwhelming, and her sex clenched and released, preparing her for her imminent release. Warmth flooded her belly, her stomach flipping excitedly as her hips undulated. Dora wasn’t going to last much longer, but she hardly cared now. As far as she was concerned, Remus was inside of her, thrusting madly as sweat beaded his hairline, and his amber eyes were locked with hers, hungry for the expression she wore when her orgasm overtook her. 

“Yes… yes… oh, Merlin… I’m… I’m going to…I'm going to come...” Dora’s fingers pumped with fury, chasing the sensation that was teetering on the brink. All it took was one last image of Remus’ smile, and Dora tumbled over the edge. “Remus!” she cried out. Her hair morphed into a vivid violet and her skin illuminated a lovely golden glow as the waves of her orgasm tore through her almost violently. It was the strongest climax she’d had in years, lasting nearly a minute until she was spent. 

When her orgasm ended, Dora’s eyes fluttered open. The room felt more vacant than ever, and though she was finally exhausted, Dora didn’t want to sleep alone. But she had no choice. Her fantasies were certainly enough to keep her warm in the moment, but at the end of it all, she knew she’d be nothing more than the awkward Auror who was far too young and too peculiar to earn a certain pair of arms to hold her as she drifted off.


End file.
